


Electricity

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow - Fandom, The Flash
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, M/M, different timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sightings of The Streak were all around Starling City. Oliver didn't know how to feel about a new vigilante - especially one that refused to do harm. People were even comparing The Hood and The Streak. People like Roy Harper insist on The Hood being a hero, but sometimes Oliver thinks his handful of people he protects was jack shit compared to the body count. As far as Oliver knew, The Streak harmed no one, only aimed to help.<br/>Oliver's first impressions of The Streak? Jealousy.<br/>He finally got to meet the man.<br/>Oliver was awakened by the sound of heavy wind from all across his house. When he looked outside, he saw a blur of red light running back and forth along his street. Oliver quickly ran downstairs, hand on a weapon, and opened the door. The light came to a stop, leaving a boy shaking, shivering. His chest heaved up and down and he breathed, knees shaking, teeth chattering, and said something before hitting the ground.<br/>"Help me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Week 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about some different ways The Flash could have went while drinking some hot cocoa and watching Star Trek. One particularly stuck out. Like, what if Barry lost his memories from the lightning and what if he went to Starling City and trained with Oliver.  
> It doesn't have to make sense. Just let it happen, folks.

Sightings of The Streak were all around Starling City. Oliver didn't know how to feel about a new vigilante - especially one that refused to do harm. People were even comparing The Hood and The Streak. People like Roy Harper insist on The Hood being a hero, but sometimes Oliver thinks his handful of people he protects was jack shit compared to the body count. As far as Oliver knew, The Streak harmed no one, only aimed to help.  
Oliver's first impressions of The Streak? Jealousy.  
He finally got to meet the man.  
Oliver was awakened by the sound of heavy wind from all across his house. When he looked outside, he saw a blur of red light running back and forth along his street. Oliver quickly ran downstairs, hand on a weapon, and opened the door. The light came to a stop, leaving a boy shaking, shivering. His chest heaved up and down and he breathed, knees shaking, teeth chattering, and said something before hitting the ground.  
"Help me."

***

The boy stirred in his sleep.  
They were in the vigilante's lair – Felicity was watching over him, but kept telling Oliver he needed a real doctor. No. Whatever this kid had, this unimaginable speed – it didn't matter. He was just that. A kid. And he was sick, very sick. He was running a fever of 106° Fahrenheit, and he would start vibrating in his sleep. Not heavy, like…like purring.  
Before Oliver can tell Felicity he wasn't taking him to a doctor, the boy jolted upright, noticing unfamiliar territory and turning into that mesmerizing red streak again until he was at the other side of the room. Papers went flying. Felicity yelled something like 'oh god ollie you weren't lying' and Diggle sent out a series of curse words.  
"Who are you?!" He yelled. Diggle had his hand on his gun, terrified. The boy started vibrating again, but not peacefully like in his sleep. His face would blur for a moment, and then it would be normal. Like an intense form of shaking.  
"Calm down, kid - what's your name?" Diggle said, inching towards him, but the boy flinched.  
"Stay away from me!" The boy said, his chest heaving up and down again as he took shaky breaths. His eyes ran over the room, looking for a way to escape, taking in his surroundings, and then his eyes landed on Oliver, who had a hand out, mumbling incoherent things of shock. The boy seemed to calm down a bit, he was still vibrating but he had steadied his breaths. "You. You're the man I ran into. Are you helping me?" Diggle started to say something but the boy disappeared into the blur once more, behind Oliver. "I only want to talk to him!"  
Oliver slowly turned around, blinking at the taller man. He was shaking, looking down at him, too. How could he run so quickly? And why would he bother trusting him? A million thoughts ran through his head until he was almost shaking like the boy. "You're sick, I took you here - they're friends - they can help,"  
The boy was eased by that, and he let down his bravado, stumbling onto the table he was on before. He seemed to struggle for breath.  
Felicity looked at Oliver, "He isn't normal, Oliver. He needs help, medicine."  
"I have the herbs like the ones on Lian Yu, see if that will calm his-"  
"No, Ollie," she said, grimacing up at him. "his heart rate is at least 200 BPM. He's.... he's not well. Whatever this is, he needs more than just home made tea."

***

Oliver sat across from the boy, watching him shrug into the blanket he had wrapped around himself. He didn't take Felicity's advice and made them some tea anyway. He sat a glass on the coffee table separating the two men, pouring a moderate amount of tea in it. He nudged the glass towards the boy. "You need to drink, it will help bring down your fever."  
The boy glanced at the tea and moves to the edge of his seat, staring down at the glass. "Where are your friends?"  
"They thought you should be around a friend," he said, watching the boy wince as he sipped on the hot tea. "That's what we are, right? Friends?"  
"I don't know you,"  
"I'm Oliver. Oliver Queen. What's your name?"  
The boy made no reply.  
"How are we supposed to be friends if I don't know your name?"  
"My name is Barry. Barry Allen."  
Oliver smiled, at least he was somewhere with him. "Nice to meet you, Barry Allen. Can you tell me what has been happening to you?"  
"I woke up from a coma in Central City... I woke up and I was here. Six hundred miles. I lived on the street for the past month. I have dreams. Dreams I'm... saving people. I don't know what's happening to me and, oh God, why can't I stop running?" Barry said, leaning forward and pressing his hands against his forehead, rocking back and forth.  
"It's fine, Barry. I'm going to help you figure this out. You aren't alone," Oliver said, but the boy didn't respond. Oliver reached out his hand, "Barry?"  
The boy looked up, cheek grazing against the palm of Oliver's hand. Static. Static electricity. The boy was lightning. The boy was a storm. 

***

Oliver couldn't understand it. This boy was in a coma, woke up, ran to Starling City, and ended up doing things in his sleep to save people, and when he was conscious, he was shaking, crying and trying to make sense of everything.  
And the speed.  
Felicity called a few people from Central City's Star Labs to come down and investigate this anomaly, they were supposed to be here by now, but they had yet to show. Barry had seemed jittery the entire ride from the "vigilante's lair" to the Star Lab branch. He refused to speak to anyone other than Oliver. Diggle told Oliver it wasn't his business, to let the boy go, but he couldn't shake it. Oliver was curious and he didn't know why.  
Probably the speed.  
Probably.  
Oliver Queen's phone buzzed in his jacket, and Barry started vibrating again. "It's just my phone, Barry. It's okay, I'm here." The boy nodded, resting his feverish head back against the window. Diggle glanced in the rear view mirror at them, saying something along the lines of that he thought his days as a chauffeur were over, and Oliver just didn't reply. Taking out his phone, he saw a text from Laurel asking where he had been the past 24 hours. He replied back with a false statement saying that he was busy with work. Laurel said she was at Verdant and wanted to know why he was lying.  
The car came to a stop. They arrived at the small building (no where near as big as the actual lab), and Barry was shaking again.  
"It's still okay, Barry. It's okay. No one will hurt you."

***

"Remarkable," Wells said, staring at the blood samples taken from the boy. "Truly remarkable."  
"A little more specific, Doc?" Diggle said, crossing his arms. Wells wheeled himself back and towards the group of people watching him nervously.  
"His cells are regenerating at an impossible rate. The lightning Mr. Allen was struck by may have jolted his very being to a molecular level, causing his heart to beat faster, response time from thought to action quicker than an average human. You are an enigma, Mr. Allen," he said, glancing over at the boy who was sitting on a hospital bed. Then, he returned his gaze towards Oliver Queen. Even though the man was in a chair, he still felt like Harrison Wells was towering over him. His gut reaction was to get out of there. "You must let me take him, Mr. Queen, to Central City. His cells are brilliant, he could hold the key to mankind's giant leap towards new technology and new cures-"  
"He's a kid, Dr. Wells," Oliver said quietly, glancing at the boy who looked shaken by the thought of being taken away.  
"He's a kid who could hold the key to the universe, Mr. Queen! He has no memories other than waking up from the coma and being here. He has nothing to lose. Please," Harrison Wells looked up at him, blue eyes cutting through Oliver's hard exterior. "Let me run more tests."  
"I'll let you," Barry croaked, drawing the gaze of everyone in the room. "Do tests. But leave me here. I am comfortable here."

***

"If you are going to go out in public without me, you're going to need to control this," he said, staring at Barry. The boy seemed more comfortable now, like he was developing a personality after his memory loss. He was funny, now. Joyful, he even smiled a bit when Oliver walked into the room. It has been a week since their official meeting, and Oliver realized Barry was more than just a kid. Oliver was childish before the island of Lian Yu, and then those five years acted as an awakening. Whatever this is, the speed, the lightning, it was almost functioning as Barry's essential island. Barry wasn't a boy and it made Oliver look at him a bit differently. "I'm going to shoot an arrow, and I want you to see if you can grab it before it hits its target. Can you do that?"  
Barry nodded, "I can certainly try." He said with a sheepish grin. Oliver smiled slightly back at him.  
"Alright, stand by me. I'll count down, and when I release the arrow I'd like you to intercept it," Barry smiled at his words and stood by Oliver. For a moment, Oliver felt the electricity as their shoulders brushed together, and he was so surprised he took a step back from Barry, furrowing his eyebrows at him. Electricity. No, not that. Fireworks. The boy was the Fourth of July.  
Oliver shook his head, grabbing an arrow and drawing the bow. "Three, two..." He let go of the arrow, and Barry disappeared in a blur of red, reappearing in front of the target, and arrow in his hand.  
Barry glared at Oliver, "What happened to one?!" Oliver set the bow down, chuckling and stepping forward.  
"Doesn't matter, you caught it. Even when you weren't expecting it," he said, staring at the arrow in Barry's hands. "It's amazing, you're amazing."  
"Don't shoot without telling me," Barry joked, "and maybe I'll catch it without cutting my hand."  
Oliver shrugged. "I heard you heal fast," he winked.

***

"I was think, Barry," Oliver said, setting down his chopsticks over the plate of food. "Now that you're getting the hang of your speed, maybe you could help me."  
Barry blinked at him, but nodded. "I want to help people... well, consciously, anyway." He broke into a wide grin.  
"Exactly, and I–" Oliver paused, taking in the sight of him. His eyes kept getting greener, Oliver noted. But they were gentle on him, like the fields of grass he sees when he goes to France on holiday, the millions of sheep wandering the area where no man has stepped before. People say we're overpopulated, but as Oliver stands there, imagining the grass, where everything is silent, we are truly only just getting started. Oliver cleared his throat. "I think you were chosen, Barry. I think that lightning chose you. I think it made you who you are. Saving people... in a flash: imagine it, Barry. We could take over Starling City. We could flush out all the bad people. We can make something out of nothing. We can–"  
His words weren't there anymore.  
Barry was kissing him.


	2. The Mighty Vigilantes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry has a run in with the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop. There it is.   
> Mostly filler. Still trying to introduce everything.   
> This is a really intense fic to right, so sorry for misplaced words or spelling errors.

Oliver pulled away as soon as he realized the boy was kissing him. "Barry,"  
"I'm sorry," he said, quickly, looking down.  
"Don't be, it's just- you're a kid-"  
"I'm twenty four, Oliver-"  
"With no memories, Barry. You're looking to me. Your mind is desperate to fill a void of empty feelings... you're turning to me because you've known me the longest," Oliver said, pressing a hand against his cheek. The feeling of electricity was still there, but it was weaker. "Barry, I'm not going to take advantage of you like that."  
Barry flinched of Oliver's touch, reeling back and pushing himself to his feet. "I get it, Ollie," he said. "I get it."  
Oliver furrowed his eyebrows, "it's not that I don't want to, but I think we should wait a bit before-"  
"I'll help you. I'll help you save people," Barry interrupted, crossing his arms at the older man. "I'll help you with... whatever this is." Oliver let out a sigh of relief. No matter how cocky he acted, he has admitted to himself that when a chance for help comes, you should always take it – and Oliver couldn't take out all the people on the list without a bit of help. Oliver smiled, opening his mouth to thank him, but Barry raised a hand, signaling him to stop. "I gotta go – Dr. Wells wants me to meet some people and run some more tests," he said. "Be careful."  
And with that – a blur of red, a gust of wind, and then he was gone. 

***

"Barry? Barry, do you remember me?" The woman with kind eyes said, reaching out to touch Barry's cheek. But he flinched, every urge in his body telling him to run: run away. These people are imposters. The world is cruel and Barry knows nothing about his previous life. These people could be created false memories of him for their own personal advantage.   
Run, Barry. Run.   
But his legs wouldn't move.   
Dr. Wells cleared the silence, "Barry has suffered one of the most extreme versions of amnesia. It took him a week before he redeveloped a personality. The chances of him remembering his family are... slim to none." The woman with the kind eyes let out a sob, before retreating into the arms of her father. Barry stared at his feet. These people claimed to raise him, to grow up with him, but how could Barry believe that? He couldn't remember. He didn't even have an idea of what he should remember. His first school dance? First kiss? He didn't have even an idea of what he had lived the past twenty four years. Dr. Wells inched towards Barry, "He has memories of the basics of life. He knows the sound of music but not specifically enough to associate it with an artist. He knows the president of the United States, but he doesn't know if he fully supports him or not. The memories are definitely there, but they are deep down in his subconscious mind. It may take his whole life of therapy to get them back."  
The woman with the kind eyes sniffled, looking at him, and began introducing (reintroducing?) herself. "My name's Iris, I'm... I'm your foster sister. This is–"  
"He has memories of your names, only because I told him you were coming." Wells said, almost jokingly, but Barry couldn't imagine the man making a joke in his life.  
Barry continued looking at his shoes. "I want to go home."  
The man, Joe, nodded. "We have an home in Central City, but the next plane leaves tomorrow. We have a hotel room-"  
"No. To Oliver. I want to go home."  
Iris blinked, obviously confused. Barry wanted to feel sympathy for being blunt. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to have enough memories to actually care, but – it wasn't there. Barry wasn't there. Wells explained. "Oliver is the man who found him. He's been living with him for the past nine days. To put it mildly, in his memories, Oliver is the only person he knows he can call a friend, because he's the only person he's sure he's never met before the lightning strike."  
Barry repeated quietly, giving a face and a name to the only place he felt safe; Oliver. "Home."

***

"You have failed this city." His voice boomed through the warehouse. He let go of his arrow, but in a flash of red, the arrow was back in his quiver and the man he was aiming at was on the ground, struggling against the fast force. It was Barry. "What are you doing here?"  
Barry tightened the zip ties on the mans wrist. "We do not kill people," he said, and in an amazing blur he was tying the crook's legs by his ankles. "We let the people decide that. Other wise it's murder."  
"This isn't safe," Oliver said deeply, watching Barry bring the criminal to his feet. "He could see your face, plus, this isn't saving a cat from a tree. This is one of the most infamous human traffickers in Starling City."  
"Well I guess you should get me a mask then."

***

"It was unbelievable," Detective Lance replied. "I was just sitting at my desk, and a huge gust of wind blew by, and all of a sudden one of the city's most wanted is tied up at my desk. Crazy!"  
Laurel raised an eyebrow. "Do you think it was The Streak?" Her father just shook his head, pouring some coffee in his cup.   
"Damned if I know. The Streak doesn't go after criminals, Laurel, so far he's just been saving people." Quentin shook his head, grabbing the cup of coffee and walking towards his office, his daughter following along. "Damned vigilantes. What has this city come to?"  
"Do you think he was working with The Hood?" Laurel asked. Quentin shrugged.   
"I don't know. It seems an odd pairing – The Hood kills his crooks, he's a damned serial killer, why would he be teaming up with a man in red who runs quickly who hasn't hurt a damned animal in his life?" He sighed, setting the mug down on his desk. "God save me."

***

"I want you to hit me with your left, reel back, hit me with right. You need to learn how to dodge,"  
"I don't understand," Barry crossed his arms. The tension between them was still ranging high since the kiss. "I can run, dodge them that way."  
Oliver set down his bottle of water. "I want you to be ready in case there's something's you can't outrun. I want you to know how to defend yourself."  
Barry opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out, so he shut it. Instead, Barry used his speed to his advantage. He hit Oliver in the stomach, then in his back. Oliver reached to block both of these, leaving his neck exposed.   
Barry pushed Oliver against the wall, hand wrapped around his throat. Oliver stumbled a bit, reaching for his throat, but before he could even move, Barry's arms moved in a blur, tying them together above his head.  
"I don't need to train," Barry sneered, eyeing the man up and down. "I'm already fast enough."  
"But not prepared enough." Oliver said, causing Barry to raise an eyebrow. Oliver wrapped his legs around Barry and made him lose his balance, toppling to the floor. Oliver now had the rope that bound his wrists pressing down heavily on Barry's neck.   
"I just walked in on a thing, didn't I?" A voice came from the computers. Felicity stood, blond hair pulled into a ponytail, glasses resting at the bridge of her nose. "Sorry. One of the scientists from Star Labs is here."

***

"I have built you a suit programmed to sustain the hundreds of miles an hour you can run, it's burn-proof so you don't catch fire because of your speed. Has that happened yet?"  
"Who are you again?" Oliver raised his eyebrow, blinking at the smaller man. The scientist smiled, running a hand through his freakishly long hair.   
"Cisco," he said quietly, looking at them. "and you're The Hood - er, Oliver Queen. Don't worry. Secret is safe with me," he winked at Oliver. He laughed nervously, nodding. "I'm a transfer from Central City, Dr. Wells thought I should be here to study you, because I'm mad smart." He smiled.  
"Sure. Where's the suit?"  
"Easy, Queen. I was getting to that," Cisco said, opening up the back of the moving truck. There, in the back, in a tube sustained in light, was a red suit. "The lightning bolt was a personal touch of mine. Where's the man himself?"  
Gust of wind. Blur of red. "Here."   
"What the frak! Holy moly!" Cisco jumped, nearly falling back into the truck. Barry snickered.   
"My names Barry, Barry Allen."  
"Nice to meet you, speedy! Christ. I thought Dr. Wells was joking," he said, standing up straight, "this–is–awesome!"  
"I was thinking about calling myself The Flash," Barry glanced at Oliver, "a friend gave me the idea."  
"Not bad," Cisco said, glancing between the two. "The Flash and The Hood! The mighty vigilantes, back together again."  
"Something like that," Oliver said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, he has to have an alias, right? I mean, no one knows who he is right now. He's off the grid, it's a little suspicious."  
"I have an idea for that too," Cisco said, glancing at Barry. "Looks like Barry Allen's, the fastest man alive, is gonna be an intern."

***

Unbelievable.   
By day, Barry Allen is a useless boy, organizing papers and taking phone calls for people who aren't there in a police station. By night, he's teaming up with the Starling City Vigilante to catch criminals as The Flash.   
The worst part of it was he had no better memories to compare it too. This was all he knew.  
"Barry, this is Detective Edward Thawne. He's a transfer so maybe you two can baby sit each other," Detective Lance grimaced.  
The blond boy smiled at Barry, "Please, call me Eddie."  
"Nice to meet you, Eddie," Barry shook his hand, and then turned to ask Detective Lance a question, but he was already halfway towards his office. Barry frowned.   
"Don't worry. He's all talk," Eddie smiled. "It's easy to ignore all the criminals coming in and out if you're busy – how about you go down to the records annex and get me these." Eddie said, grabbing a pen and paper and writing down a few words. "It's easy. They're all files alphabetically, so once you see the name, grab them."  
Barry nodded, walking towards the records annex, staring at the list of names. One looked familiar.   
Ronnie Raymond.   
Barry hit the ground, clutching his head. It felt like shards of glass were cutting, clawing their way out of his eyes. A million visions. Memories. All came back. Memories that felt real, but he didn't feel like they happened to him directly. 

"If I'm not out in two minutes, shut the door," A boy with dark hair said, looking at Cisco. Cisco shook his head.   
"Ronnie-"  
"Do it or we'll all die."  
"Caitlyn will–"  
"Cisco!"   
His voice made Barry shake, the pounding in his head growing strong. Barry held in a scream. He looked at his hands, they were vibrating. He has to get somewhere someone wouldn't see him. He tried to get to his feet as the memory continued.   
"Two minutes," he said quietly, before disappearing into the circular room.   
Barry watched the two minutes go by as he stumbled to the bathroom. It was empty. He locked the door as he clutched the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror. Why were they coming back? Had the list triggered a memory? Oh, God, was Barry's nose bleeding?   
Cisco shut the door. He seemed so sad. A girl with brown hair bounced down the hall.   
"Cisco? Where's Ronnie?"  
Barry couldn't watch it anymore. His head was pounding. He was weeping. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the phone in his pocket. Oliver got it in case something was happening. He tried dialing the number, but Barry fell onto his knees and another throb in his head shook him to the core.   
"Barry? Barry, what's wrong?"  
Barry couldn't do anything. He was crying, shaking. He curled into the corner and waited for someone to come. He needed someone. The blood from his nose dripped down his chin along with the tears that didn't feel like his own.  
"Ollie, please," he said, almost a whisper. "Come to SCPD, oh God, something's happening. Oh God," he said, whimpering. The blood, sweat and tears soaked his face, he couldn't stop shaking. All he could do was hope it to end. This was more emotion than he's ever felt before.   
God, if this is what happened to him in the past, he never wants to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is mostly a filler. Sorry if Iris or Cisco seemed a little out of character.


	3. Fire & Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry is determined to find out what is happening to him, but can he suffer the consequences?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if anyone seems out of character. it is midnight as I am publishing this because flarrow waits for no one.   
> feedback is appreciated, even if it's just a kudos. love you all dearly.

Barry Allen woke up in the Star Labs branch. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw Felicity hovering over him. She seemed tired, a pair of headphones on her head. She held the microphone and said something about Barry had woken up. He blinked slowly, looking away from her to take in his surroundings. He was definitely in Star Labs, his suit (The Flash's suit? Cisco's suit? He still wasn't sure what to call it) was in the corner of the room, and screens showing everything there is to know about Barry's vital signs.  
Barry tried sitting up. Felicity's hand rested on his shoulder, "Barry, don't move, we don't exactly know what happened, it could be serious," she said softly, and Barry remembered what happened. He felt himself hyperventilating, so he tried his best to calm down. He imagined Oliver, but it did nothing. He imagined the people who called himself a family, he imagined everything being okay, but Barry began to weep. Felicity stuttered for a moment, blond hair bouncing as she searched for words. "Hey, it's okay, come here," she said, hugging him. Barry realized something as he wrapped his arm around the girl. He had more friends than just Oliver. Anybody who goes out of their way to help him deserves the world.   
The sound of high heels clicking sounded through the room. Barry immediately sniffled, clearing his throat and pulling away. Felicity turned around in her chair, smiling. "Hi, Caitlyn. He's awake. You probably have a lot of questions for him." She said, standing up and motioning for the girl to sit.   
Barry instantly recognized her. He stumbled for words, backing up in his bed. How was she real? Was the memory truly real? It didn't feel like his. It was there, but it wasn't his. "Barry, are you okay?"  
"I... I had a memory. I saw a name, it triggered something." Barry looked down at his hand, it was blurring, vibrating, making a sound like a humming bird. He looked at the girl with the bouncy brown hair, "You were in it."  
The girl raised her eyebrow, mumbling something Barry didn't understand and walking towards one of the computers. She typed something in and finally spoke. "That's impossible, I've never met you before,"  
"You were in it... and so was Cisco, and-and-"  
"Cisco? What did you see, Barry?" Felicity walked to the foot of the bed, resting a hand on his leg.   
Barry just shook his head, pressing his palms into his eyes, trying to remember. "A man... He ran into this place... said for Cisco to shut the door in two minutes, he... he didn't come back in two minutes. You –" Barry paused, looking up to the girl, who was still typing in a computer. She noticed him, and stopped, walking towards him. "–you asked where Ronnie was."  
She put a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. "My god, how do you know that? I've never– I've never met you. How do you know that? How?!"  
"I don't know!" Barry shouted, shaking in fear. "I don't know, okay? I saw a name, Ronnie Raymond, and that happened — oh my god, it was terrible, my head –" Barry paused, crossing his legs and putting it down in his hands.   
Felicity cleared her throat, "It doesn't matter right now. We need to run more tests and check to see if whatever caused the triggering of memories did something to his head. I told Oliver he woke up. He should be here soon," she said, turning back to him. "Do you hear that? It's gonna be okay. We'll figure this out, pinky promise."

***

"I'm worried about my brother," Thea said quietly, sitting beside Roy on his bed. Roy's laughed bellowed in his chest, cut short quickly.   
"I'm not," he said, reaching over and grabbing a soda can, taking a sip. "I mean, sometimes I think he's gonna beat me half to death every time I see him." Thea elbowed him in the side, frowning. "I mean, it's not like he's dead, he's just taking time for himself."  
"Still," she said, quietly, staring at her hand as it wrapped around Roy's; she recalled a time she felt as at peace as this. Thea used to ride around on her bike to impress Tommy and Oliver, she was always the younger one, the younger one who didn't have a group of friends. She wanted to prove she was one of them, so she road down a really steep hill in the woods. She made it down without a hitch, and she was finally accepted by them. That's how it felt when she was with Roy. Acceptance. Without the broken ankle. "He's never been gone this long, except from the island. He's either met a really nice girl, or is lying in a ditch somewhere falling into old habits."  
Roy smiled at her. "It'll be fine."  
"I hope you're right,"

***

"I told you. I had the memory, I called Oliver and blacked out. Please believe me,"  
Caitlyn crossed her arms. "You had a memory that wasn't yours. You have to forgive my suspicions."  
Barry shook his head, standing up. The painkillers Caitlyn gave him were kicking in now. He walked towards Oliver. "I want to go take some more people down."  
Oliver shook his head, crossing his arms, putting on a bravado to hide the fact he's terrified; at least that's what Barry thinks. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, Barry, but you're in no condition to fight. Caitlyn says you're healthy, but you need to rest."  
"I'm fine," Barry said coldly. Oliver was going to speak, but he just furrowed his eyebrows, nodding. Barry seemed pleased. "I'm going to go back to work. Whatever or whoever this Ronnie Raymond is, it sounds like he died the night the particle accelerator exploded. I'm going to try and figure out why the police needed his file."  
Caitlyn bit her lip, mumbling, "Go. And please figure out they just forget to mark him as deceased,"

***

Oliver was trying to figure out who to mark off the list, and Barry was back at work, refilling printers with papers and acting like he didn't pass out from a massive nosebleed in the bathroom a day ago.   
He brought coffee from down the street (he was able to run down without anyone noticing, and Barry was happy because police station coffee is dreadful), setting it on Eddie's desk. "A gift," Barry said, smiling at the blond man, "for my only friend on the force."  
Eddie grinned, taking the cup, "From Starbucks? Down the street?" He scoffed, "I must be pretty important."  
Barry smiled, "I ran down during lunch. Thought you might want one,"   
"Thank you," Eddie smiled, taking a sip. He then leaned forward, eyeing the man. "I have a question. Are you a friend of Iris West's?"  
Barry's heart got caught in his throat. He had no idea how to reply to that. They weren't friends, he was just told they were. He's only met her once! Barry leaned against Eddie's desk and took a sip of his coffee, swallowing to get the lump out of his throat. "I'm her foster brother," he said, but it didn't feel right.   
Eddie grinned. "She just transferred from Central City to work for the newspaper company by Merlyn Global," he beamed. "She was down here trying to get all we could on The Hood and The Flash. She's really pretty. Did you move here with her?"  
Barry shook his head, holding back a wince when Eddie mentioned The Flash. "I've been here over two months, I was... in an accident and ended up just living here. It felt right. Iris heard of my situation and decided to come here to watch over me, I guess."  
Eddie smiled. "Tell her I said hi," he said, taking another sip of his coffee. Barry just nodded, sliding off his jacket and setting it down on Eddie's desk. He readjusted his green sweater, trying to figure out how to ask him.  
"Will do," Barry said, knowing full well he probably wouldn't. "So what's with this Ronnie Raymond guy?" He said, taking a sip of his coffee. "His name was in the list of files you wanted me to get before I got sick and had to leave. I have a friend who knew him; I thought he died in Central City when that thing went off."  
Eddie raised an eyebrow, "Everyone thought he did, but we have reports of people seeing him walking around and setting fire to things," he said, leaning back in his chair and looking up at Barry. "My best guess? PTSD. He worked at the company that made the accelerator. Maybe just got guilty, started setting fires as a cry for help. Hell if I know."  
Fires. That made Barry tense. 

***

"The boy seems to be enhancing his abilities far more quicker than I could have hoped for," the man grimaced. His words were so cold they could sent a shiver down your spine. He paused for a moment, taking a drag off his cigarette, leaning back in his chair. Blowing out the smoke, he continued, "Moving him to Starling City was definitely a good plan. After the events that took place prior, I noticed the subject to be far too sympathetic. He shows far too much can remorse. Moving him to Starling City has proved useful. Queen has been training him to be more assertive, and it has been working far more than I could have imagined. The subject has already gained his first memory of the previous timeline," he said, flicking the ashes of his cigarette. "It's time to send in Mr. Snart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PLOT THICKENS.


	4. The Killer and The Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver develops some close feelings for Barry, while the man with the cigarette's plan is further revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shitty delay and sorry for the shittier chapter.  
> A few things explained:  
> I broke my ankle. I spent two hours in the hospital getting a splint on and I am on a lot of painkillers but I'm good.  
> Also, this is a work of FICTION. I apologize if some things are not accurate to the comics/show. As you have probably noticed, this story takes place in an alternate universe then the one shown in The Flash television series. This universe is basically "what if Barry were darker and in Starling City and was in gay, gay shambles with Oliver".  
> It's actually more than that. But you'll just have to wait for the updates to find out.  
> Find me on tumblr — just search mygmobblepot. It's 100% mobile run blog because my computer is old as hell.

Oliver Queen thought he had seen everything.  
And then a twenty-some boy, zooming at the speed of light, started helping him unlearn everything he did on the island: kill or be killed. He was trying his hardest. He wasn't shooting on sight anymore, he let someone have a chance; but for Barry, he had become colder, less sympathetic for criminals. Barry still hadn't killed anybody, and Oliver intends to keep it that way.  
Earlier today, Oliver visited his empty grave. It was strange thinking about the five years people went thinking he was already gone, even stranger to think his mother was getting remarried while Oliver was training to become a killer and deflecting bombs from hitting planes. He still hasn't told anybody. It wasn't worth it. He didn't need pity. Lian Yu made him a better man, it gave him the tough, leathery skin he has now. Nothing can hurt him. Nothing.  
"You need to let someone in, Oliver."  
Nothing but that.  
He loved Thea, and he was so desperate to making all the time he lost being with her. He missed five birthdays, six boyfriends, two heartbreaks and one broken bone. He missed everything. Thea grew up in five years, and Oliver was simply the damaged jerk he is now. He took Thea's words to heart; he wouldn't blame her for the anger she felt. Oliver shouldn't have gotten on the Gambit. He shouldn't have dragged Sara with him. He missed five years, and the only person he could blame was himself.  
So he put on the hood, and became a bad person. No one was good in Starling City anymore. It has a way of making people hurt.  
Oliver Queen thought he had seen everything. And then he saw a man on fire.  
The man beside him almost fell back, stumbling for words and trying to get away from him. Oliver had a hand gripped on his bow, one on an arrow. Barry shook his head. "Don't shoot– Don't!" Oliver's eyes widened, staring at Barry, expectant. Barry stood up straight, blinking at the boy. "That's Ronnie. That's Ronnie Raymond, Caitlyn's fiancé."  
The figure yelled, and Oliver quickly drew back his bow, arrow aimed directly at his throat. Barry pressed a hand on Oliver's arm, almost instinctively. The figure's flames died down, but his skin had an orange glow; he looked at them with white eyes. "I'm not Ronnie."  
"I don't care who the hell you–" Oliver started, but Barry shook his head. He got a look in his eye that obviously meant nothing good, it was mischievous; filled with curiosity and wonder. Oliver took his eyes off his target to watch the man begin to inch forward. "What the hell are you doing?"  
"Ronnie, or whoever you are, we want to help you, please. We want to help you, so don't-" as Barry moved closer, the man lit up in flames, flying off into the sky. Oliver let his bow fall to his side, staring up at the orange figure of fire fly away. Barry let out a huff of breath, "-flame on..."  
Oliver looked at his partner, "What the hell was that?"  
"I don't know. Maybe I wasn't the only one affected by the accelerator. Or maybe he's just wicked fireproof," Barry crossed his arms, and a transmission came onto both of their headsets.  
Through mild static, Cisco spoke on the other end. He sounded nervous. "Uh, guys, you're gonna wanna hear this. It's an audio-byte captured from a 911 call. Sounds right up your alley," he said. A couple of taps on a computer later, it began playing.  
"Please, please no!"  
"I love it when they beg."  
"I have money, please stop! Take anything you want!" The person screamed in agony.  
"Where's The Flash? I know you've been talking,"  
"I don't know who or where he is, but he's working with The Hood! Oh god, please stop!"  
"It seems a little cold in here, doesn't it?"  
The rest of the audio was filled with static, a sound of shattering, and terrible screaming. Cisco came back online and began talking. "The rest is just the operator asking dumb questions," he said. "But he was asking about you guys. Felicity pulled up the police reports of the attack. The forensics guys said some pretty strange stuff. The guy was frozen solid, and his leg... his leg was shattered."  
Oliver caught Barry looking at him, and with a sigh he said, "Fire and ice. Perfect. Get everything you can about the report and all you can on the victim. If he wants us," Barry paused, "he's got us."  
Oliver furrowed his eyebrows, drawing an arrow and shooting it on a roof top. "See you on the flip side, Flash." He began climbing up the rope. Barry grinned and ran off. 

***

Oliver first killed a man on Lian Yu. He was trying to protect Shado. He grabbed a rock and kept beating him while Shado screamed for him to stop. He kept going until his arms were tired. He remembers how it feels. He remembers hearing the bone grind against his rock. He remembers the life leaving that mans body. His first kill. He remembers Shado washing the blood from his hands, telling him about the opposing forces inside of all of us. The darkness and the light. The killer and the hero.  
Every time Oliver looks at Barry, he sees the hero he always wanted to be.  
And Oliver feared one day he might have to wash the blood off Barry's hands. 

***

"Mr. Cold struck again. We got him on dashboard cam this time, but two cops and a criminal who had the unfortunate business of being in the back of the squad car are dead," Cisco explained further. "The dashboard cam was streaming directly to my computer and the ones at the station, and we ran a nationwide cross check of the database for this guy."  
Barry looked at Oliver, who seemed entirely lost in thought as he stared at the arrows in his hand. "Did you find anything?" Barry said to Cisco over the comm.  
"Yep. Leonard Snart, weird guy, totally off-the-grid for the most part. He's using a gun that shoots ice, and wow, is it cool. I wish I invented something like that," Cisco said. Barry sighed. The man coughed. "Uh- anyway, I was thinking about calling him Captain Cold. You know, you guys have The Flash and The Hood, and for Ronnie I was thinking Firestorm. Cool, right?"  
Oliver, who was crouching down and staring at the cars going back and forth below him, stood to his feet. He turned on his microphone and broke his silence. "We need a location, Cisco."  
"I don't have one, I don't have much of anything, really. He's just been targeting victims of opportunity, asking where you two are."  
"Give us something, Cisco!" Oliver shouted. Barry was surprised by this; he stumbled back a bit, blinking at him. The man had his hood over his face, but Barry could sense something was wrong. He could feel it. He would have to ask later.  
Cisco stuttered for words over their comm. "Christ, okay, um, there's been several phone calls to 911 from the Starling City news and journalism agency, it should be right by Merlyn Global Group. Phone calls all feature a voice strangely similar to Captain Cold's."  
Barry squinted. "Iris works there."  
Oliver looked at Barry. "I'll meet you there."  
Barry shook his head. "No time."  
Barry grabbed Oliver's hand by the wrist and ran quickly to the edge of building. Oliver blinked, staring down at the cars. He wobbled a bit, struggling to gain balance. "Barry, you need to calm down!"  
Barry looked over at Oliver and grinned, tightening the grip on his wrist. "And you need to hold on."

***

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," Leonard Snart shouted, walking down the aisle of desks. Oliver looked over and Barry, and began walking towards the catwalk, but Barry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Oliver nodded.  
Oliver turned on his microphone. "You getting this, Cisco?" he whispered, "You need to record everything. Anything could be useful."  
"Yeah I get it," Cisco said.  
"I want you all to pay close attention to what I am about to say," Snart said, gun resting on his shoulder. He moved it, pointing it at the crowd of hostages. They all shivered and started whimpering and crying. Barry saw Iris in the crowd. "I don't want to kill you. In fact, I want to be your friend. Let me introduce myself," he said. A security guard stood up, holding out his gun, but before he could even aim, Snart froze him. It was terrifying, so terrifying Barry felt a tinge of doubt in him. Could he really take on him? How can he take on a man who can use a gun made of ice? Snart chuckled, staring down at the frozen corpse. "Call me Captain Cold."  
"Wait, how does he know that name?" Cisco came in from the comm.  
Barry flinched, grabbing his head as a familiar shattering sensation grew into his head. "Not now. Please, not now."  
The pain shattered through his whole body. He was already on his knees, shaking. "Ollie," he quaked. "I can't do it."  
Oliver was beside him in an instant. Barry felt the blood trickling down his nose, it was only a couple seconds until the memory started. God, it as all too familiar.  
Leonard Snart continued his speech. "I am here for The Flash." Barry winced, letting out a groan. Snart looked up in the direction of the window they were looking in from. "There he is now. Looks like it's your lucky day, folks. You get to die by fire instead of ice. Mick," he said. A different man stepped forward, igniting the floor in flame.  
Cisco came in from the comm just as Barry was beginning to lose consciousness. "Oliver, get as many people as you can out of there! Barry, you have to get out now! Your vitals are dangerously high, you have to get out! Now!"  
Barry ran as far as he could until the memory overtook him. 

***

"When you first woke up," Cisco said quietly. "I didn't know if you were trustworthy. Someone with your speed could easily go bad, so I... I built a weapon to stop you."  
Barry was speaking. It was his words. "The weapon Snart is using."  
"Yes. I haven't touched it since I made it. But I went to check on it and it was just... gone."  
"You built a weapon to take me down? You built a weapon that let thousands of innocent people die!"  
"It wasn't my fault, I was scared, and I–"  
"It's fine, Cisco," Harrison chimed in. "We'll stop this. This isn't your fault."

Barry collapsed against the wall of Star Labs, seeing Cisco blinking at him. Caitlyn ran towards him.  
"Barry, thank god, are you okay?" Felicity said, quickly walking towards him and kneeling beside him. Barry shook his head.  
"Memories, more... more of them–" Barry paused, letting out a cry of agony. He mumbled something along the lines of makeitstopmakeitstopdeargodpleasemakeitstop. He let out another yell as his body quaked, head feeling like it was going to explode.  
"Get him on the bed, he's going to have a stroke!" Cisco shouted angrily, and everything else was a blur.

***

"Did I do good, boss?" Snart said, foolish bravado dripping from every word that left his mouth. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't have let The Hood save as many people as he did, but I'm not giving orders."  
A flick of the ashes of his cigarette, and a deep chuckle later, the boss said, watching the hologram of his friend flicker with each frequency of movement. "Damn right you're not," he said, taking another drag of his cigarette. "I think saying your name was a bit too much." He said, blowing out the smoke through his nostrils. "He's worried now. Anxious. Probably thinks you have cameras all over Star Labs to watch him. Next time, Mr. Snart, stick to the script — that's what I pay you for."  
Snart nodded. "Will do, boss."  
The man's smile was full of sarcasm; it was dripping from each corner of his mouth. He smelled of smoke. Meh was every bad thing Snart could think of, but his personal opinions didn't matter. He was getting payed. The man's smile faded as quickly as it came. "Let them capture you. I know a way out of their cages and pipelines and prisons; get them to fear everything. Tell Barry specifically that you know Wells' secret, that should be enough for the subject in question to get nervous and react on instinct." He took another drag of his cigarette.  
Leonard Snart raised an eyebrow, "Sir, I know you're the boss, but I don't think Wells will be too happy knowing you–"  
The man slammed his hand on the table, causing the ground to shake around him. Snart flinched, regretting what he said. Blowing out the smoke, the man gave another smile. "Who's the boss, Mr. Snart?"  
Snart sighed. "You are, boss."  
The man broke into laughter. Not his chuckle: this was hysterical laughter. Terrifying laughter.  
Slowly, the hologram disappeared, and the laughter died down, leaving the man to his cigarette and his plans for Barry Allen to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thing explained: the man with the cigarette (his name will be revealed further on) is from the timeline Eobard Thawne is from. The explanation for that will come later. Again. Work of fiction Doesn't need to make sense. GAY SHAMBLES.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver vows to protect Barry. He isn't letting this happen.  
> (and Barry forgets he's the hero of the story, and needs Oliver to remind him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trash. Absolute GARBAGE.   
> It was 4 AM and I am crying over this. Enjoy, you monsterous human beings. Enjoy.

Five days.   
Five days of Barry Allen stirring in his sleep. Five days leaving Oliver to worry. Five days Oliver Queen didn't sleep. Five days Barry had two strokes and one heart attack. Five days of Felicity and Caitlyn trying to find out why the memories he was getting we're coming back so intensely. Five days Cisco spent washing blood of The Flash's suit.   
Five days.   
Oliver had been watching Leonard Snart. He would hang high in the catwalk watching him talk to Mick Rory about their plans. He would tell Cisco and then he would run and stop it before it happened. He wanted to take down Snart. It was personal now.   
But Felicity told him they had bigger things to worry about. A metahuman who had the ability to affect people's inner emotions had been using it to rob banks. Oliver told Felicity he didn't have time to take down a kid with a God complex and superpowers, and then Felicity told he was working for Leonard Snart. That got his attention.   
"Where is Roy Bivolo?!" The vigilante shouted, earning a cry of terror from the low-life weapon supplier. If Oliver was being honest, he didn't even remember his name. but he had to do something.   
Before Oliver knew it the weapon supplier was screaming and staring at the new arrow in his wrist.   
"Please! I don't know! I don't!" He screamed. Oliver could see he was lying. This wasn't paranoia. This was science. Oliver knows when people lie, he does it all the time. He got another arrow in his hip. He was sure not to sever major arteries. He didn't want him dead without the information he needed. The man was mumbling a prayer but Oliver just drew back another arrow, repeating himself. The man cried, "I-I don't know where he lives, but he needed guns! He's planning something! At Starling City National Bank with that Snart guy; he wants to get your attentio-"  
Oliver shot an arrow in his eye, then grabbed one with a rope attached to it, shooting it at a building and watching it wrap itself around a pole, before running off the roof and swinging along it. 

***

Three AM. Barry woke up in Oliver's house. He was alone in the room.   
His heart was racing. He reached to call out: "Ollie, Ollie, please," but his voice shattered and tore through his throat and diaphragm, causing him to hunker back down against the pillow, gripping the comforters as his body gave out underneath him.   
A voice sounded out that wasn't Barry. For a moment, he thought it was Oliver, he decided against the theory. If Barry knew anything, it was the sound of Oliver's voice. He thinks of it when he falls asleep, eyelids fluttering and refusing to close. He thinks of it when he's showering, hand wrapped around himself accordingly. He thinks of it while he's eating, talking; he thinks of it especially during times like these where he's afraid and alone and wanting to run away. He thinks of the quiver in Oliver's voice after they kissed for the first time. It was husky, deep, and comforting; like a father trying to lull his sick, anxious son to rest. This voice was chilling. It was every bad word Barry could think of. It was every scary story he's heard in one, monotone voice. "Awake again, Mr. Allen."  
Barry's first instinct was to think it was Leonard (after all, he didn't remember going to Star Labs - he remembers nothing after the nosebleed started), but Barry quickly debunked this as just his paranoia. Leonard wouldn't take him here. Maybe Leonard decided to pop in, you know, "hey pal, how you doing, here to kill you and what not", but that didn't make sense either. Leonard didn't want to kill him. He wanted his attention, or The Flash's attention — it was a mad obsession.  
So if it wasn't Leonard, who was it? Barry looked around the room quickly. It was well-decorated, and for the most part, clean, like it always was. A drawer was missing from the wardrobe and Barry saw it laying on a chair pulled up beside him – was someone dressing him? He couldn't remember. He also saw on the end table, wear a lamp would normally be, was a series of medicinal supplies (various forms of medication, liquid and pills and syringes, cotton balls and Band-Aids, a heart-rate monitor, and various empty IV bags practically saying Caitlyn Wuz Here). Other than that, nothing was different — it was Oliver's room. It smelled of him (the perfect scent between Calvin Klein cologne and Old Spice deodorant), but this time the scent did not bring him the comfort he desired. The room was chilled and empty. The voice echoed off the walls. "I knew you'd be coming for me. I saw it in your friends eyes at the news agency," he said. He appeared himself, a silhouette in the green, damp glow of Starling City; Barry couldn't move. He wanted to. His mind screamed for him to run, to scream. He glanced at the IV in his arm. He was being pumped with morphine and painkillers and sedatives. Barry couldn't move. The man spoke again. "I was watching you, when Snart hurt those people. It made you angry."  
Barry said something incoherent through his shattered diaphragm and his shredded throat.   
The man shook his head. "Have some real anger."  
All Barry saw was red. 

***

Before Oliver could reach Starling City National Bank, Cisco came in from their comm. He sounded normal, slightly hesitant but that's normal expected from Cisco. Especially regarding his next words, which were, roughly: "Hey Oliver- err, Arrow. Barry woke up, but we... we have what you'd call a situation-" There was a loud crashing noise, followed by the comm cutting out for a brief moment. "Yeah, you gotta get over here. He refuses to– He-" Cisco stopped for a moment. There a moment of silence and what shouted like Caitlyn and Harrison consoling the threat. There was another crash.   
Oliver ran as fast as he could. 

***

"You guys act like just because I don't remember my family, that I'm a stray dog! You know what? I'm done, I'm so, incontrovertibly, completely done. Done with this whole-" Barry felt a feeling of rage envelop him. He didn't feel like himself. His veins were hot and fiery and his heart was beating fast - even for him. He glared at Harrison, who looked like he was going to– stand up...?  
Oliver burst through the door, looking around. The grease paint around his eyes made him look darker than usual, and Barry scoffed. How could Oliver act like he's the boss? He was on an island for five years. The poor soul is happy he even knows his name. Him and his stupid bow and arrows, with his superiority complex, thinking he was too much for Barry to handle. Oliver was a murderer, he knew it, Barry knew it, the Lance family knew it. Oliver Queen was a lamb dressed as a wolf. A broken, bruised, empty little lamb.   
Even so, with his foolish bravado, he stomped towards Barry with that look, the look of disappoint. Christ, so what, he gets a little upset? Apparently, he almost died while Oliver played superhero around the city. Fucking asshole. What the hell – had that island hollowed him out and filled him with every fucking bad thing in existence? Oliver was cold, ruthless —

I love him, what's happening to me?

— a bitchy little playboy. Oliver mumbled something about Barry needing to sit down, take a breath, calm down and get on the medication he was taking. Fuck that noise, Barry wasn't handling this. He needed something, anything to take away this god-forsaken rage building in his chest, rising up to his throat, reaching down his forearms until his nails were digging into his palms and Barry wanted to hurt something. Oliver suddenly touched Barry, glancing at the blood pooling in his fingertips and dripping from his fingers as a result of his sharp nails. Barry felt no pain, just that rising, putrid, terrifying rage that didn't feel like his own, but felt like it was bottled up for so long. The person that did this, the person hurting him, he needed to do something. Red eyes... works with Snart... Need a name... —  
Barry ran. As fast as he could. 

***

"Barry, you need to calm down–" Cisco said, fooling with the comm system so if Barry tried to turn it off it would refuse. He heard grunts of anger as Barry came to a halting stop around a street called Longview.   
"Give me a name! Someone! Tell me he's doing bad things and I'll end him!" Barry shouted, incoherently. He was slurring his speech as if his tongue didn't want to say anything, but it was enough for Cisco to get the gist.   
"Barry, you aren't right, you need to-"  
Oliver grabbed the headset off of Cisco's head before the long haired kid could react. "Roy Bivolo. Address is–"  
"Oliver!" Felicity shouted from behind him.   
Diggle chimed in. "What are you doing, Queen?! This boy is gonna kill–"   
"–West Fairfield, take a left two blocks ahead and go straight until–" Stomping. Someone to try and stop him. "–until you see a–" Diggle ripped the headset from Oliver, but that was enough. Barry was already running.   
"What the hell?!" Caitlyn said, arms flailing as if Oliver just set her on fire. The man just hugged a sigh of breath, pulling down his hood and watching Barry's coordinates change on the monitor.   
"He's ready. I've taught him enough to take someone out on his own," he said, glancing over at the four. "He's ready."  
Everyone looked unamused. Cisco, especially. "He just woke up, he's probably still got all of the medicine in him–"  
"Shēngcún," Oliver said quietly, turning away from them and staring at Barry's coordinates once more. "Survive."

***

Five minutes.  
Five minutes as Barry Allen arrives. Five minutes of pure rage. Five minutes as Barry sees Bivolo. Five minutes of struggling against each other's weight. Five minutes of Barry avoiding eye contact. Five minutes of fear being drowned out by adrenalin and anger. Five minutes as Barry grabs Bivolo's gun. Five seconds for Barry to realize it isn't loaded. Five seconds for Barry to bring the handle down on his head. Five minutes of pushing all his weight down on the man's skull. Five minutes of blood.   
Fifteen for Oliver to get there. Five minutes of Barry shaking and realizing what he did. The anger was gone.   
Five minutes. 

***

Oliver wet the soapy sponge underneath the warm bath water. Fingertips grazed bare skin, but Barry didn't feel it.   
Oliver ran the sponge over Barry's chest, watching as the drops turned red and disappeared into the rest of the water. Oliver desperately sponged at the red, splotchy spots on Barry's skin that refused to come off. His nightmare was real. Barry Allen killed a man and Oliver was cleaning him up, and while Oliver felt like he was going to suffocate, Barry just stared at the faucet, arms tucked underneath each other and he swayed a bit. He looked mindless. Empty.   
Oliver felt sick.   
"You had to," was all Oliver could manage from the lump in his throat. The boy in the bath blinked up at him slightly, trying to comprehend what he said as Oliver brought the sponge down on his stomach.   
"I don't think I did."  
He held back a wince as he dipped the sponge in the soapy red water. Stopping for a moment, he glanced back at Barry, who was taking taking shaky, short breaths, a panic attack begging to claw its way out of the weak man. Before Oliver could open his mouth, Barry's eyes were filled with water, overflowing, tears sliding down his bloody cheeks. Leaving the sponge to float, Oliver pressed a hand on that same bloody cheek, and kissed his other softly. "I know, Barry. I know," and that was all he could say. He knew. Barry didn't stop crying as he clutched at Oliver's shirt, burying his his forehead in the crevice of his neck.   
Oliver took a moment to embrace the simplicity of this moment. Although nothing they were doing would be classified as simple, there were simple things that came along with it. The way Barry smelled, lavender (no doubt from the soap) and just a hint of ozone; that Oliver wasn't sure of. It could have been Bivolo's blood. It could be the only thing left from the lightning, other than the speed. Oliver decided whatever it was, it was nothing nice. He pulled Barry off of him just enough so he can grab a wet rag. Oliver looked at Barry's face, those green eyes petrified, swelled with tears, the whites of them red from no doubt sobbing. Oliver saw the younger man blinking at him, expectantly, and he gave him a smile. Barry was soothed by that, easing up in the older man's arms slightly. Oliver pressed the rag against Barry's cheek, wiping off some more of the blood.   
"Nothing can make you any less of what an amazing person you are becoming, Barry Allen," Oliver stated, wiping off the blood just under his chin, pointing it up so they were eye to eye. "I am so lucky to be footnote in your life."  
Barry shook his head, but never left Oliver's touch. "You're more than just a footnote, Ollie," he whispered. Oliver just smiled at him, grazing his thumb along Barry's bottom lip, wiping off the blood. Barry was going to speak once more, but Oliver shook his head, shushing him. Barry stared at him with those big eyes, blinking as Oliver dragged the finger on Barry's bottom lip to the side, moving his hand so he was cupping his cheek.   
Five seconds.   
Oliver kissed Barry, feeling the electricity running through their lips again. Barry kissed back, sucking on Oliver's bottom lip until his teeth were grazing it. Oliver sighed into the kiss; fireworks exploded inside of his mouth. The sheer effect this kiss had on him was enough to bring Oliver to his knees, but he knew now what his purpose is. He needs to make Barry happy. Always and forever. He needs to protect him. He has to stay strong for him. Barry bit his lip softly, letting Oliver curse slightly as he dragged it out, opening his eyes and placing two small kisses on the corners of his lips.   
"We should get you dressed, Barry," Oliver said quietly, watching the younger man furrow his eyebrows. "I need to make sure you're okay."  
Barry felt a tinge of betrayal, but he let it slide. Barry let Oliver towel-dry his hair, lay out clothes for him – hell, he even let Oliver watch over him while he got dressed. Oliver wasn't letting him out of his sight.   
'Cause this is Shado all over again, Oliver thinks to himself. But this time, he wasn't letting the bad guys win, and there's only one way you can do that.   
Oliver had to change himself. No more helping. No more saving. This city doesn't need a hero, it needs a vigilante.   
It needs Oliver.


End file.
